Monthly Archive

A so-called cease-fire and we hope to have a calmer night. Last night was full of plane noises, flying so low that we saw them.
This morning I went to the general security in Jounieh to renew my residence permit. The officer on duty told me: good you came today and not last week because the Lebanese people were queuing to obtain their passports. I one day we had more than 300 demands. As there was almost nobody, I was done in half an hour. Now I have to go back in 8 days to receive my residence permit valid for 1 year.
Running back to our 2 schools. Apparently the weekends are hard for the displaced to come through. There’s less help and most of the dispensaries are closed and so many of them wait for us on Monday. The kids are excited. The Brothers of the christian schools, who promised to come and play with the kids do not show up. We try to cover up for them.
WV calls and asks to open Ayadina. Stocks have to be brought and bags filled for new families.
The policy has changed: due to the increased number of displaced, the families now need to register with the municipalities in the area they live in. Those municipalities i.c. Borj Hammoud and Sin el Fil will give us the lists of names after they have checked them and we will distribute them.
I’m glad to go home as the heat is unbearable. All  volunteers suffer from the heat. Or are we getting tired, daily hoping that this war will end?

If I want you to believe me
I should be true to you
But mostly true to myself.
Lebanon is a beautiful green country,
full of energy, youth, activities and life.
Our people are honest, simple but wise,
And full of faith. But there are some exceptions.
I am a 21 years old Lebanese girl
who so far has experienced two wars in her life,
too many hate and hundreds of greedy politicians
and I have never stepped one foot out of this country.
I am not gonna tell you that I love living in Lebanon
because I will be lying. I’ve trying to leave it
because I want to live in peace.
I don’t want to fight and struggle no more.
I don’t want to be in a war
which is even not ours or our country.
I don’t want to be hurt and cry
whenever I see the Tower falling.
I had enough. We had enough.
I am not gonna lie to you but
I probably have lost hope in my country.
I have lost hope to see it rise and prosper again.
I probably have lost hope in Lebanese people
in rebuilding their country and learning from their mistakes.
But I didn’t lose hope in humanity.
In humans all over the world, who fight for what they stand for.
Who wave the human rights as if it is their constitution.
I am asking you. You who believe that you have the right of liberty,
security and mostly of life. DO SOMETHING.
Children and women are killed and starved to death every day.
Innocent people have lost too many till now and the worse is yet to come.
If you think that a human don’t have the right to live,
delete this message and don’t move a finger.
However if you do believe that everyone has the right to live
and chose their fate, have the liberty to defend our innocent people in Lebanon
and to do something you’ll be proud of for the rest of your life.

Tanya.

Cana…My God Cana again….It’s impossible..Cana was hit in 1996 when the April war of “les raisins de la colere” struck and made this big carnage. Today this very morning 55 people were killed, of which 27 innocent children, carnage…How many times a village can be struck and massacred and stand up again, rise up again? How many resurrections can there be for such a courageous village? Look at the pictures all over the world, broadcasted by all TV channels. Is that what it’s all about? Killing people systematically because no ceasefire can be obtained?
I’m really upset and scream for help via this technological channel. But I want to express my gratitude to all of you who participate in peaceful manifestations, who help in bringing more awareness to people, thank you all of you who keep on praying for peace. You are a consolation to us.
And also this is Lebanon: After mass we checked on our friend Pauline who moved to a safer place and while going back home, I saw a bride all dressed up, taking photos. She’s to be wed this afternoon. This says something about the Lebanese personality: Life goes on and the Lebanese have a very strong will to live and survive. It’s this that keeps them alive and going on and continues struggling.

Click on image to view full size.

The distribution yesterday from Ayadina premises went fine.
First we had prepared all goods together with volunteers of WV and ourselves…great teamwork. I admire those youth working silently for hours, carrying heavy boxes, stocking up stuff.
And then, we waited for the families to come. All went very smoothly and in a dignified manner. People arrived and registered their names and signed and were accompanied by volunteers to help them carrying their boxes, smiling and in a kind way.I feel that I receive as much as I give at those moments. About 300 families of all denominations received food and cleaning and hygienical products.
Now today I’m exhausted and didn’t move. Need some time to rest, reflect and pray in order to start afresh on Monday.
But people keep coming from the South. We had just finished our distribution when we heard that 35 new families had arrived from the till now isolated area of Ayn Ibl.

When arriving to the school this morning I was astonished to see a baby of 9 months moving his head uncontrolledly. As the little boy also suffers from diarrhea and vomitting, I was afraid of fits and epilepsy. So we took him and 7 other small children to our already well known dipensary Karaghosian the Armenian dispensary I wrote about on July 22.

Again their welcome is so genuine and professional. Pediatricians examine the children free of charge and whatever they have of medication are also given. In all the misery it’s refreshing to see how solidarity grows between NGO’s and how everyone is helped regardless of their beliefs.

Right now I was contacted by the (Belgian) Radio 2 VRT. My cousin Dirk was the contactperson and had asked me if I would agree talking to them. Why not? I said, as long as it’s a humanitarian talk and not a political one. This really is a dirty war. Are they all so dirty I wonder?

Both Tine and Sandra Called me and I was really happy talking to them and I thank them for the opportunity to express my thoughts and reality.

Theoretically I know there’s not such a things as complete “objectivity”, but I also know that very often news is not objective just because of the fact that the journalists do not have the accurate information. they might not speak the language or might not be able to talk to trustworthy sources…and of course there are many political reasons for being subjective.

Today has been a long day …first there was the bombing last night…then today we first played with the kids…they really look forward to this time just for them. they scream as soon as they see us.

This afternoon we started a new phase of aid: distribution centers.

All the NGO’s of the area gather all primary food at Ayadina, the NGO I work for. These are different kinds of donations: rice, spaghetti, beans ect. We sort it out and put it in small bags for each of the increasing number of displaced families. It takes a lot of effort and time but the spirits are high and all volunteers help wholeheartedly. We will distribute it tomorrow. Imagine this family that arrived yesterday and said they did not eat for 2 days. They only drank water, the baby is dehydrated.

This article is worth reading…

Lebanon has given me more than I ever could’ve asked: a home, a sense of belonging, an almost indecent number of happy memories. But aside from any debt to Lebanon, I won’t leave because I know how miserable I would be watching the war ravage my country from the outside. As long as my feet are firmly planted on Lebanese soil, I somehow know the country will survive.” Words written by A Columbia Alumnus currently residing in Beirut in an article published on why she isn’t leaving Beirut.

The article is pasted below, and can be found under Staying On Why I’m not evacuating Beirut.

By Faerlie Wilson BEIRUT, Lebanon:

From my balcony this afternoon, I watched as French, British, and American evacuees boarded chartered cruise ships in Beirut’s port about a half-mile west of my apartment.
And over the last few days, while bombs and artillery pummeled the southern part of the city, I made the decision not to leave Lebanon. Explosions rock my building even as I write this, but I’m staying put. I’m not crazy, and I harbor no death wish. This is simply the rational decision of someone who has built a life in Lebanon, who believes in this place and its ability to bounce back. I choose to bet on Beirut.
After five visits to Lebanon over as many years, I moved to Beirut from California this February. I’m a 24-year-old American with friends but no family here. But Lebanese hospitality makes it easy to feel at home; it’s a warm society that exudes and embodies a sense of interpersonal responsibility. Live here for two weeks and then go out of town, and you’ll get a dozen offers to pick you up at the airport upon your return.
So although I’m not Lebanese by blood, I have become Beiruti. There are plenty of us who fit that description, foreigners who fell in love with the place and its people. One friend, an American college student interning for the summer with a member of the Lebanese parliament, called in tears en route to the northern border to tell me her parents had forced her to leave. “I’m going to stay in Syria as long as I can,” she vowed. “In case things settle down and I can come back.”
Until the war broke out last week, this was to be Lebanon’s golden summer as last year’s tourist season having been dampened by the brutal car bomb that killed former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri in February 2005. This summer started off strong, with concerts by major Western artists that allowed the Lebanese to hope their country was returning to the prewar days when everyone who was anyone’s icons like Ella Fitzgerald, Marlon Brando, and Brigitte Bardot made regular stops in the country. Ricky Martin and 50 Cent performed in May and June, respectively, Sean Paul was on deck for July, and negotiations were under way to bring Snoop Dogg later in the summer. But the most anticipated concert was set for late July: the three-night return of legendary Lebanese diva Fairouz to the Baalbeck festival, where she first earned her fame in the 1950s and ’60s. The after-party for 50 Cent was typical over-the-top Beiruti, held at city’s most decadent nightclub, Crystal.
Lamborghinis and Ferraris crowded the parking lot; plasticated Lebanese girls in short skirts and spike heels danced on tables as waiters navigated the dance floor balancing trays laden with sparklers and magnums of champagne for high-rolling Saudi tourists, while Fiddy free-styled and openly smoked a joint. Tourists from the Arab world, Europe, and North America flooded the streets of cities and villages throughout the country. Gulf Arabs in particular have been drawn to Lebanon, especially in a post-9/11 era when they felt unwelcome in the West (and often had trouble obtaining visas). Lebanon offered many of the same attractions as Europe, but in an Arab setting: temperate climate, good shopping, plenty of tourist activities, and most important, heady nightlife and a liberal social atmosphere. Tourists partied till dawn, stormed the sales at Beirut’s designer boutiques, and visited sites like Lebanon’s ancient cedar groves and the Roman temples at Baalbeck. Now those magnificent ruins are surrounded by newer ones: The city of Baalbeck, long a Shiite stronghold, has received a heavy share of the Israeli bombardment. Falling bombs erase entire villages, fire and smoke cover the horizon, and visions of that promised summer have, in just over a week, evaporated. On the beaches of Damour and Jiyeh, the foreign visitors aren’t European sun junkies but Israeli missiles. And the cruise ships docked in the port aren’t bringing tourists to Lebanon, they’re taking them away. The contrast between Beirut today and Beirut two weeks ago is so stark, it would be unbearable if it weren’t so surreal. This isn’t my Beirut. This isn’t anyone’s Beirut. The frantic, vibrant city has shrunk into a sleepy town, with empty streets and only a handful of restaurants, bars, and shops open for business. It’s amazing how quickly you can get used to living under siege. We’ve taped our windows, stocked up on supplies, and settled into a perversion of normal life. Electric generators succeed where embattled power stations fail. I’ve learned what times the electricity, water, and Internet connection usually cut out, and I plan my days accordingly, an old Lebanese ritual from the days of the civil wars. Candles we bought as decoration are scattered throughout the apartment, half-burned down from long nights without electricity. An Israeli propaganda flier dropped on a university soccer field sticks out of my roommate’s copy of the now-obsolete July issue of Time Out Beirut, marking a page listing exhibitions at art galleries that have since boarded up their doors. The magazine only launched this spring, and it was easy to see it as yet another symbol that Beirut was finally being recognized as one of the world’s great cities. Travel and Leisure magazine listed Beirut as the ninth-best city in the world for 2006. In this part of the world, fortunes shift very quickly. Smaller explosions and the rushing of Israeli fighter jets overhead don’t startle or frighten me anymore. We are exhausted and have to save our emotional energy for the moments where panic is needed. Still, when larger blasts rattle my windowpanes and make the apartment shudder, I rush to the balcony to figure out which part of my city is being hit. Sometimes, it’s an easy game: Three days ago, my roommate and I watched as Israeli warships struck Beirut’s port. I know I’m reasonably safe in my corner of Beirut, and I have a place to go in the mountains if that ceases to be true. Unlike people in many other industries, I still have a job: The magazine where I work decided to publish an August issue -although it will lose money- as a sign of resistance and resilience. There is painfully little we, the ordinary people of Lebanon, can do to help the situation. So, instead, we do what we can to help each other by donating food and supplies, opening our doors to friends and strangers, and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. We aren’t giving up. After the foreigners are gone, local wisdom predicts that the fighting will only get worse. At the very least, there will be less protective padding - a fear of foreign casualties that may have restrained Israel to some degree. Evacuating Beirut would feel a lot like abandoning it. I know that my staying won’t keep the Israelis from intensifying their attacks, but at least I won’t be complicit, seeing events unfold on a TV screen from the comfort of Cyprus. So, I’ll watch those ships pull away without regret. Lebanon has given me more than I ever could’ve asked: a home, a sense of belonging, an almost indecent number of happy memories. But aside from any debt to Lebanon, I won’t leave because I know how miserable I would be watching the war ravage my country from the outside. As long as my feet are firmly planted on Lebanese soil, I somehow know the country will survive. People ask me if I’m scared, and I am - but for Lebanon more than for myself. This place and its people deserve far better than what they’re getting. There’s a sad, unstated “what will become of us?” question floating around the Lebanese who are left behind. I need to stay here, if only to learn the answer.

Do you know a person named Georges Bakouni?
Do you know a father named Georges Bakouni?
Do you know a bishop named Georges Bakouni?
Well, I do and I’m grateful and happy to know him.

In case you don’t know him,
He is a bishop in Tyre and lots of southern villages.
He is still there with his people, his children
He offers them help
He welcomes them in his bishopric
And what he most asks for are prayers.
WHY ?
Because…
He knows that this is an evil war
A war that kills innocent people
A war that kills a whole country
A war that can kill him as well.

I am afraid for his life.
I am afraid to loose a good person like him.
I am afraid for the good ones in Lebanon to be killed
And most of all, I am afraid to see all them dying and me doing nothing.

Today one more time, I have this cry inside me:
A cry for human life
A cry for children
A cry for Love
A cry for the good people like Georges

When Love is dying
And Good is vanishing
And Evil is blossoming
then I am dead and you too.

So we have 2 choices:
to watch such things happen and die
or act and maybe live

With all my respect for a true father
May God protect you!
Dona

Today I underwent a minor surgery under local anesthesia. While suffering a little bit I couldn’t help thinking of all those wounded (in Lebanon and in all countries suffering from war) who need to undergo major surgery and do not have the necessary anesthesia…where shortages are so huge that people have to wait to undergo surgery, or where they perform minor ones without anesthesia.

Just look at the other side:
Hi guys-

I wanted to share the below email with you. It is from my friend Itai. We were friends when I was in uni. He is Israeli and I think it would please him if I showed my friends a different side of Israeli society.
Lily

Lily

I will make sure to do justice with the pictures you will send me, do not worry. I try not to write about politics, but sometimes reality just takes us there. I know how you feel about the air planes noise, I actually had the same feeling a week ago. I live right next to a major Air Force base, and for the pass 12 days they really made me stay awake at night. They took off every day from 11pm until 5am, with out stopping. It was a nightmare for me, but I know it does not even come close to what you have been through.

I need you to do me a favor, please send my apology to all your Lebanese friends. It is important for me that they would know there is a sane voice on the other side. Furthermore, I do not think you should go back to Lebanon, you are safe now. I have a bad feeling that we have not seen the last “scene” in this war yet. It is scary to say, but we are closer now to a total war in the middle east, than we have ever been. It is not safe for you, me or anyone else who live in the this region now. I am planing to go back to Boston in a few months, and if it was in my hands I would have come back yesterday! People on both sides are alienated, and it is hard to talk common sense when the situation keeps escalating every single day.

I called the Belgian Embassy and they told me that they had so many people to contact and they therefore were so busy. I was also told that “being known” by the Embassy is apparently not the same as being registered in times of war. I kindly told them that I was not even considering leaving but that it’s about the principle. Anyhow I was not surprised, given the fact how the American Embassy acted with my friend Lily, an American citizen. Today the last Belgian plane leaves…and I do not at all regret I’m not on it.

As I was writing this now, 8 heavy explosions were heard…the priest Father Jean-Marie called to say that it’s about 900 m from his house. We were all planning to go up to Bikfaya to celebrate mass with the displaced up there, but given the attacks….

But, after one hour Fr. Jean-Marie says he’s going up, so we join him and celebrate mass in a school full of displaced Christians….the faithful pray fervently and I’m moved when the priest asks to pray for all those who like evil, the ones bombing, the ones desiring to hurt others…a total different atmosphere at this school with about 15 families….

I’m grateful for so many who mail me and are worried about me and my Lebanese friends, my sisters call and others send text messages…it’s this specific tie, war creates or simply does not create…but in my case it creates a common solidarity…

Some of you know my friend Pauline, who underwent scoliosis surgery about a month ago. She lives in Naameh (between Beirut and Saida). Whenever there are problems this village suffers from bombings and air attacks. So also this time. Pauline quickly came to Beirut with her brother and sister.  Her parents stayed behind, refusing to leave their house once again. They now were obliged to flee their house when Israel destroyed their house together with so many houses. This is the second time they are displaced in their own country.

A colleague of Paulines sister, a nurse, was killed by the bombings in Kfarshima, while returning from her duty at the hospital. She was 29 and didn’t ever think that one day she would be burned to ashes.

This is the news I got today from my friend Pauline, and I just want to share it with you. When will this crazy war stop?

Dear All,

I am writing to you from Limassol, Cyprus where I am staying with Michael at his sister Farah’s house. I am so emotional and so nervous all the time - I am constantly tense I cannot eat, I cannot laugh, I cannot strike up a conversation with people. I am traumatized and cannot bear to hear loud noises or airplaces flying above. I really have never experienced anything like this and I really can’t put it into words.

But I am very lucky. There are millions of Lebanese still in Lebanon who do not have any other citizenship in order to evacuate with. They are stuck in Lebanon and God knows what will happen to them especially after today(Israel as just moved ground troops into Lebanon).

I am lucky because I have dual citizenship. Once the bombings started I quickly registered with both the American and Greek embassies. I am glad I didnt rely on the American embassy because if I had I would probably still be in Lebanon. They have stopped calling people for evacuation. I met a lady in Cyprus the other day who said she had registered with the US embassy 4 times only to find out that she was not on the evacuation list! She had to force herself onto a ship which seems to be the only way for Americans to leave right now.

On Monday the Greek embassy called me at 7 am. They told me to be at the embassy by 10:30 am so that we can board buses and head to the French embassy. The Greeks were going to evacuate with the French on French ships. I packed my bags (I was extremely distraught that day - hysterically crying because I did not want to leave the life I had established and my friends and loved ones behind). I arrived at the embassy - with one suitcase, a small carry on and my lap top- and we ended up boarding the buses at around 12:30 pm. By the time we got through the French embassy, checkpoints and registration all over again - it was about 2 pm. I was so tired and stressed. I was all by myself and my bags were so heavy! Most of the people around me were families with young ones. No one was available to assist me with luggage, etc. because they were all concerned with getting the hell out! I was in it all by myself and it was physically and emotionally tolling on me. Nevertheless, we were put into a schoolyard and given bus numbers (to board buses to Beirut port). There were 25 buses and I was bus 23. The boarding process was taking forever!! At around 8 PM an extremely loud explosion went off. I have never heard anything so close (we were in a “safe” Christian area). All the children who were playing in the yard held their hands over their ears and ran into the school screaming at the top of their lungs. It was a sad and scary sight.

By 9 pm bus 19 was called to board. This was taking all night. It would probably take another hour until my bus number was called. At around 10:30 PM i noticed a bunch of people heading back into the schoolyard. The French ambassador got on the mic (speaking in French only) and announced that h ship had left without us! About 80 Americans jumped the line. American lives have priority above anyone elses. In addition, it was unsafe for the ship to leave any later - the bombings had begun and they were heavy.I couldn’t control myself I started bawling hysterically. I called Michael who came to get me from the school. I decided I would go with him and his family through the Syrian border the next day. From Damascus we would take a flight to Cyprus. BUT the French embassy had my Greek passport locked up in an office and I would not be able to retrieve it until the next day at 11 am. I couldnt go with Michaels family - they were leaving for Syria at 6:30 am, any later would be too dangerous for them. I didnt want to risk using my American passport to get to Syria because just the month before Syrians were refusing AMerican entry through the border. (It turns out that I would have been fine going through border with my US passport).

The next day, Tuesday, I was told to be at the embassy by 1 pm. I went, got my passport - boarded a bus, went to the port where we waited in buses from 2 pm-6 pm. Finally, we got off the buses and waited to have our bags searched. Throughout this procedure I noticed several Lebanese standing around. One offered to help with my bags. I asked him if he worked at the port. “No,” he said ” I live in Dahieh (where the heaviest bombings in Beirut are taking place) my house is about a foot away from a huge crater in the road…my family will die and we have no where to go. I am just hoping that I can miraculously board a ship.” How will you do that with your lebanese passsport? I asked him. He laughed nervously and said “I dont know….God willing their will be a way.” My heart sank to my stomache. I knew he wanted me to help him but how? When I said bye to him to get onto the ship he sadly waved goodbye. I will never forget the look on his face…I felt so helpless and guilty. How many more are there like him?

I am in Cyrpus now. I am leaving for Boston on Monday at 3 am. I have no idea whats going to happen to the family and friends that have stayed behind.I pray for them everyday. I want this to end soon but I am afraid it wont. The Lebanese are being collectively punished. This is not fair.

Today the LBC International (LBC is a Lebanese news station that has NOTHING to do with Hezbollah, in fact it is a Christian broadcasting co.) was bombed. The chief was killed. Now those outside of Lebanon who wish to watch Lebanese news, who wish to see waht exactly is going on in Lebanon cannot. That is Israel’s purpose…

Today, a bunch of phone towers were bombed. I have been trying to call friends all day. There is no communication. Israel is cutting the Lebanese people off from the rest of the world. I am so scared of what will become of Lebanon. I am so furious I cannot express it in words. This is an illegal act of collective punishment, it is absolutely outrageous and should be condemed as so by the whole international community. I am not Hezbollah. My friends are not Hezbollah. My family is not Hezbollah. Hezbollah does not represent a single one of us. Why are we suffering for them? What will become of the 1 million displaced Lebanese? What will become of the new refugee community? What will become of this country which has been appreciated for its rich, and vibrant history and culture. A history like no other. A beautiful gem that has been crushed way too many times and gotten back up on its feet way too many times to give up right now. I pray for the fate of Lebanon and the loved ones I have left behind…

Please pray for Lebanon.

Lily Chryssis

I just can’t stand if when the press shows the photos of the war victims like they did right now with the 23 year old free-lance photographer (and so many others before her). Death has its right to discretion and intimacy. A dead body is not for showing off or sensational publications to show war cruelties. It makes me feel sick or …as if I’m watching a bad movie.

Last night, no sleep at all, bombing started at 1 30 and kept going on till 5 30 AM.

You hear the planes above your head, this special kind of noise before the firing of the rocket and then the horrifying sound…I start to distinguish the distances and can now discern which side the bomb falls.

This morning we went to church. This church in which I sing in the choir, is located in West-Beirut, so the so-called not-christian side of Beirut. It’s the most ancient Greek Melkite church of the Middle-East, a pearl of a little church. Its pastor in the etymological sense of the word is a great man. And also this morning he gave us this spiritual comfort and encouraged us to continue praying and not give up hope.

After Mass, it was as if we could not leave, we stayed and exchanged some of the experiences in order to strengthen one another.

Yes you are guilty,
You who make weapons,
You who decide to fight,
You who are silent,
You who can see little children dying and do nothing,
You who are far from Lebanon and think you are not responsible,
You who are in Lebanon and think of its future while other are loosing their life.

Yes you are guilty, and don’t run away from this truth. One day you not only will face your creator, but also all the innocent people who died in this cruel war.

Till when will we be in war with our neighbors?
Until when do we let others decide for us?

Put yourself in the place of a person in the South, dying or frightened to death from Israeli missiles and think again about what you want to do.

As Christians, we do not fear the ones who can kill our body but we do fear the ones who can kill both our body and soul.

I am a Lebanese but I do NOT want to leave and seek to obtain another nationality; especially not from a country who signed the human rights but does not respect them.
In fact, I now reject all nationalities in this world, also mine; I want to be without nationality, because of what I experienced in life.
I can not say that I once heard of a country that is totally against war.
I only desire to be a Christian.
Not because of the Christian witnessing, but because of Jesus Christ who was The man of peace and still is.

Yes, I do feel sorry for you who are guilty…

I Dona Abou Younes - a Christian girl, who is now without any nationality - search for humanity inside every person on this earth.
Act, say something, do something, but please do not ignore your role in this matter, because you will be guilty then.

A tribute to true humanity!

Saturday July 22, 5 pm

An extremely tiring morning…with many practical problems: the NGO who used to bring cooked food won’t do this anymore as of Monday, so looking for gas and cooking utensils …World Vision (WV) comes and donates them to the schools…

World Vision is fantastic; they are a Christian NGO and focus on “children”.

In such circumstances there are always people who like to play it politically…I refuse to make any distinction between people. Our coordinator is a great woman; she knows how to deal with them and talks firmly. Some people registered names of refugees not present, the school director, together with WV ask us to check upon those families and see who’s actually there and a refugee and who’s not. So we drag from family to family, checking….

When we arrive at school, all the children come to us and yell: are we going to play today? Dona tells them: no, but on Monday we will. They’re disappointed and their faces change…

The school building needs cleaning with so many families living together. So women and children start cleaning. I do admire those kids, they keep up the spirit and are willing to help.

Again some of them seem to be sicker, more fragile…Mariam, a baby girl of 24 days is not well at all. She will have to see the pediatrician again on Monday.

Suddenly a huge noise: a bomb destroyed the LBC (Lebanese Broad Casting corporation international), a man died.

Perhaps tomorrow we won’t have internet access anymore or mobile access coz those stations are systematically destroyed.

I’m exhausted, need to sleep …think and pray.

Today is the Belgian national holiday…about 10 days ago I received an invitation to attend a reception at the residence. I kindly thanked them and apologized having made other arrangements.

I’m not registered with the Belgian embassy but “known” by it as I have my official address in Belgium.

Now, after 10 days, I haven’t been contacted by my embassy. So when I called the Belgian helpline 2 days ago, I had the consul on the line and he said that he was leaving the next morning at 6 30 Am. When I asked him why the embassy didn’t yet contact me he said: where do u live and when I told him he said: this is not a zone with priority for evacuation. I then asked him where he lived and he said: also there…strange isn’t it that a zone can have both priority and non-priority!!

Not that I consider going back to Belgium. My life lies here and I would not go back in such circumstances, because who am I to have the choice to go back or not? So many Lebanese do not have this choice…only the ones who have several nationalities. I will not leave until all Lebanese leave or have the chance to leave.

Talking about going back: a very good friend of mine came here to visit his grandfather in Saida and got stuck there. As he’s in fact living in Jordan and was even born there, he also owns the Jordanian citizenship. His family – living in Jordan – is very upset and tries to have him back and finally today he was able to make it here to Beirut, after a very dangerous trip…

I met him and we called the Jordanian embassy and fortunately for him the last 2 buses were leaving Beirut tonight. So we hurried to Baabda, passed in front of the destroyed bridge next to the Baabda municipality and finally arrived at the embassy.
With all respect my friend was welcomed and told that this were the last buses for evacuation, that they were free of charge and that they would leave as soon as the expected number was complete. My point is: how astonished I was when the Jordanian guy invited me and my Lebanese female friend to come along. I first thought he was joking but no…he wasn’t at all.

I can assure you that this gesture meant a lot to me.

The NGO I work for, called Ayadina (Arabic meaning: our hands) works in one of the poorest neighborhoods of Beirut. This area has a beautiful committee of coordination that now works in relief aid for the displaced.

So as for today: a copy of the previous days of this last week.

The different NGO’s (ODS, World vision, Caritas…and ourselves) invest with their volunteers and try to help those people. We got assigned 2 public schools where 230 displaced settled down. We go down in the morning, try to assess the needs, try to be a presence and give special attention to the kids who’re truly traumatized…

We play with them…imagine this child of 6 who’s extremely violent and after the first day comes and thanks us…the eyes of the girl who kept screaming yesterday but today played peacefully and asked if we’re coming back or not…

We take sick kids to dispensaries, and here I want to pay a tribute to those dispensaries who open 24/24 like the Armenian relief Cross… to Karaghosian dispensary who welcomes the children and treats them, not just only professionally but also has a listening ear to those small, insignificant “little pains” and gives them all their attention and medical means…yes chapeau bas for all those individuals and NGO’s who help regardless of religion…

Most of the displaced are Shiites, so Muslims, whereas the majority of the helpers are Christians. To me this means an evangelical challenge.

Dit is zogezegd de Nationale Belgische feestdag. 10 dagen geleden kreeg ik een uitnodiging van de Belgische ambassade voor een receptie ter gelegenheid van de Belgische Nationale feestdag. Ik belde en bedankte vriendelijk en verontschuldigde me omdat ik reeds een andere afspraak had.

Sinds de oorlog begon werd ik nog niet gecontacteerd door de Belgische ambassade. In Beiroet ben ik “gekend” door de ambassade maar niet ingeschreven omdat ik officieel mijn adres in Belgie heb. Ik belde 2 dagen geleden ‘s avonds de hulplijn voor Belgen en had de consul aan de lijn die me vertelde dat hij de volgende morgen vertrok om 6 30 AM. Toen ik hem vroeg waarom de ambassade me nog niet belde, vroeg hij me waar ik woonde. Toen ik hem mijn adres zei, vertelde hij me dat dit geen prioritaire zone was. Toen ik hem vroeg waar hij woont zei hij me dat hij in dezelfde wijk woont. Grappig hoe een zone wel en niet prioritair kan zijn…

Niet dat ik eraan denk om naar Belgie terug te keren…Mijn leven ligt hier en in deze omstandigheden wil ik zeker niet terug. Waarom zou ik de keuze hebben terug te keren en anderen niet?

In de NGO waar ik werk, Ayadina, sloten de vrijwilligers zich aan bij het coordinatie comite en proberen de vele displaced te helpen. De wijk waar we werkzaam zijn is 1 van de armste van Beiroet en ongeveer 22 NGO’s zijn er werkzaam.

Vandaag, zoals alle dagen deze week, ging ik naar de 2 scholen waar nu 230 displaced people samenzitten…de noden zijn groot…de middelen niet voldoende maar er is veel goede wil. We spelen met de kinderen die duidelijk getraumatiseerd zijn, we nemen de zieke kinderen onder hen naar 1 van de vele dispensaria die hun centrum openzetten en gratis allen verzorgen. We gaan vooral naar Karakosian, een armeens dispensarium dat prachtig werk doet en niet alleen hee; professioneel de kinderen verzorgt maar evengoed oor heeft voor de kleinere, minder belangrijke pijntjes, die gewoon om aandacht vragen.

Kinderen die soms de hele tijd staren maar niets zeggen, die met moeite komen spelen of heel gewelddadig zijn…

Nadien gaan we naar 2 andere centra waar we heel primaire verzorging doen: schaafwonden, post-op verzorgingen…

Your cedars are weeping again, O Lebanon,

with tears of blood and sweat,

your mountains are crying aloud, O Lebanon,

with voices of pain and despair.

Land of the Purple Empire,

once proud and mighty

you are again suffering the pain of war,

inflicted not only by strangers

but by some of your own children, as well…

How many wounds, how much bleeding

can you sustain princess of the East?

How much bending can you take

before you break?

Hold-on, daughter of the sun,

hold-on, nymph of the sea,

destruction and fire cannot end

your cycle of life.

Survive you will,

revival you shall see,

your wounds shall heal

your spirit shall be lifted

and the love of your children

– your true children –

will prove mightier than the sword!

For your cedars

are deeply rooted in your soul

and will hold it whole,

until the new dawn arrives.

Don’t despair, O Lebanon!

You will stand up again, proud

and stronger than ever before!

© George C. Chryssis